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There's this snippet of verse that I've had rattling around in my head that goes like: "Home is the sailor, home from the sea, and the hunter is home from the hill".
And I thought it was probably from some sort of cozy and homey thing about returning home and all, but it turns out NOT REALLY.
It's A.E. Housman, and it's... kinda dark!
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Home is the sailor, home from sea:
Her far-borne canvas furled
The ship pours shining on the quay
The plunder of the world.
Home is the hunter from the hill:
Fast in the boundless snare
All flesh lies taken at his will
And every fowl of air.
'Tis evening on the moorland free,
The starlit wave is still:
Home is the sailor from the sea,
The hunter from the hill.
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Whoa.
